


The Most Beautiful Thing That I Have Never Seen

by MisterMan



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Memory Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29673438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterMan/pseuds/MisterMan
Summary: Foggy has this habit.[for FebuWhump]
Relationships: Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Karen Page
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	The Most Beautiful Thing That I Have Never Seen

Foggy has this habit.

Nelson & Page is located just a couple blocks away from a sandwich joint. A bit out of the way from his apartment but he stills finds himself going. Karen joins sometimes but her place is in the complete opposite direction so it’s almost always just Foggy sitting at the table for two on his own.

“Just you today?” the waiter asks, not even looking up from his notepad that has Foggy’s usual order.

“Just me,” and Foggy feels this pang of disappointment. Of grief but he’ll see Karen tomorrow so he shrugs it off. The waiter leaves and Foggy sips his coke, alone, looking out the window. People pass as they get off work and the traffic really starts to pick up. See, if he were a sensible man he’d get on home instead of wasting money away at the too expensive sandwich shop that’s further than it’s probably worth trekking.

But he stays. He watches the empty seat in front of him as he picks his way through the sandwich. He doesn’t finish it.

The next day is Friday and he asks Karen if she wants to go to Josie’s as she starts to clean up her desk. It’s in one of the three offices they have. The last they don’t know what to do with so they just use it as a storage room.

(“We should hire a second lawyer,” Foggy had said.

“Or a secretary,” Karen had replied, arms crossed.”)

“Can’t tonight,” she says and she looks genuinely apologetic. “I gotta meet up with a client tonight.”

“Ooh, after hours,” he watches as she packs up her bag and shrugs on a coat. “Not to sound ungrateful that you’re actually working or to insult your skills as a very talented P.I. but I didn’t think you’d get another one so fast.”

Karen huffs a laugh but she furrows her eyebrows. “No, yeah I – I didn’t think so either. Business has really picked up recently.”

“Well, “ Foggy claps his hands. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

Karen waits up for him as he locks up and together, they step out into the chilly air. Karen ends up getting a cab and Foggy watches it drive away. The streets are clearer tonight.

“Looks like it’s just me,” he says to no one.

Josie’s is awfully crowded that night and Foggy almost regrets going until Josie doesn’t make him pay and he stumbles out a few hours later, buzzed and relaxed.

He rattles an address to the driver and almost falls asleep during the drive with the gentle rocking of the vehicle and the smooth jazz playing at just the right volume and the comfortable buzz of eel in his system.

The cab stops. The driver holds out a hand and Foggy digs out the cash from his wallet. But when he steps out, he doesn’t know where he is. The driver is already down the street by the time he realizes he’s not at his place.

“Huh,” he’s alone. The apartment building before him looks expensive and he does recognize it, in fact. It must have been one of the places he took a tour of when he was apartment hunting. Too expensive, indeed. He doesn’t know why he thought it ever stood a chance against his thin wallet.

He stares at the building. Then he goes home.

The weekend comes and goes and Monday starts the new week without a hitch. Foggy arrives a little early but Karen does too, weirdly enough.

“Look at us. We’re professionals,” Karen laughs at him. “What? This is progress. Soon we’ll be opening at eight a.m.

“Don’t think M – ,“ she stops and frowns.

“Don’t think what?”

She shakes her head. “Uh, just – don’t think many clients would, uh, mind that.”

Foggy nods, rubbing his chin. “Yeah. Actually, why do we open so late? I don’t mind getting up so early and you don’t seem to either.”

“Yeah,” she agrees but she looks so unsettled that Foggy lets it go. Maybe she’d rather open a little later but he doesn’t understand why she wouldn’t just say that.

Foggy casually starts the coffee maker, or tries to. It makes a godawful noise instead. “So. How’d the meeting go last night.

“Oh, uh – it went fine.”

Foggy raises an eyebrow but pretends to really be focused on the pathetic excuse of an appliance. “Not anything interesting?”

“Well,” she bites her lip and wrings her hands. Something’s eating at her. “She seemed…”

“Crazy? Insane? Weird? Bizarre?”

That gets a weak laugh out of her, at least. “I wouldn’t say that. She just didn’t make a lot of sense. But she was offering a lot of money even though she…”

Foggy lets that sit. The coffee machine is still doing – whatever it is that it’s doing that causes that noise. 

“Even though…?” Foggy pushes gently.

“She probably doesn’t have the money,” Karen admits. “She seemed desperate and, and scared.”

“Ah,” Foggy turns to Karen to get a good look because he’s not – well, he just needs to see how she looks. And she looks nervous and freaked out, which is kind of freaking out Foggy. “But isn’t that our usual clientele?”

Karen stares at the door and Foggy actually sees the moment her gaze hardens, the moment her body straightens, and the moment her determination takes hold. This is the Karen Page he knows and loves.

“I’m gonna go meet her,” she says and then she’s gone, barely remembering to grab her coat before she’s off.

And then the coffee machine stops screaming and looks about ready to grind some beans but it’s now that Foggy remembers they don’t have any.

Karen returns after lunch but she has a sandwich for him to make up for it. “It’s from that place you always go to.”

“Karen, have I ever told you you are the most beautiful woman to ever walk this Earth?” Karen turns a little red, Foggy is pleased to note. He’s still got it. “Because you are.”

“Thanks,” Karen says. “But I suggest you warm it up. I got it a few hours ago.”

“Second most beautiful woman,” Foggy amends.

“Wha – why’d I get demoted?” She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s laughing and for some reason the scene reminds him of something but he can’t quite put his finger on it. A heavy feeling settles within him.

“You didn’t keep my sandwich at the perfect temperature,” Foggy forces it to come out more upbeat than he feels. And it does work because Karen shakes her head in mock exasperation but the feeling doesn’t budge. 

Something is wrong.

Karen says something and goes to her own office, leaving Foggy trying to figure out why he’s feeling so – alone. Even though he has Karen with him right now.

He goes to the sandwich shop that evening and the waiter takes his order, as usual. And just like always, he brings the same sub Foggy orders every time, but he also brings another sandwich. One Foggy never orders. Never has.

The waiter frowns. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought this one. I’ll just take it to the back.”

Foggy watches but the waiter doesn’t move. “Y’know, no one even ordered this. Hasn’t in a while. It’s our least popular sandwich but the owner doesn’t want to get rid of it for some reason. She doesn’t know why.”

The waiter is stuck in this trance. So is Foggy. They watch the sandwich, unable to move.

“I don’t know why I brought this.”

“It’s okay, I’ll,” Foggy clears his throat. “I’ll take it. Might as well.”

After that the waiter bounces off, apparently satisfied it’s at least being bought and not wasted, and Foggy’s hands shake when they reach to grab it, almost out of his control but. Nothing happens when he touches it. No explosion, no gunshots, no blind ninjas.

He puts it in the fridge when he gets home, towards the back as if that’s going to make any difference to his mental breakdown.

“There’s lunch for tomorrow,” he says to the fridge. The hum picks up and it’s deafening. His heart pounds but he doesn’t know why.

The rest of the week goes by quick with him busy with case after case, and with Karen disappearing to meet a new client most of the time, or to meet the woman she met last weekend. With each meeting, though, Karen looks more and more paler than usual and there are bags under her eyes now. She looks like how she looked when they had first met; her suspected for murder and Foggy and – and Foggy had just started his own firm at the time, hadn’t he?

Just Nelson. What a boring name. But it hadn’t felt boring, even before they – he had met Karen. It was stressful, nerve-wracking, but never boring. Even when he had been on his own.

He feels more lonely now with Karen than he had then, before she came into his life. Sure, he loves her. She’s a great friend, and an even better co-worker. But something is wrong. Foggy can’t put his finger on it.

In an effort to get Karen to relax more, Foggy offers again for a trip to Josie’s and Karen agrees pretty enthusiastically, which is somewhat a surprise to Foggy, who had expected to get denied again since she’s been busier than him these days.

They go right after work when the sun is still barely out but is already beginning to set. The chill that’s persisted all day intensifies so they get a taxi, agreeing to split the fare. 

Josie’s is rather full again and it seems like there’s more shadier people than usual. Even Josie, who’s tending the bar alone this time, seems on edge. When Foggy follows her gaze he sees a small gang of people, all wearing hoodies with the hoods pulled up, because of course they have to.

Foggy gestures for Karen to follow him and they walk to a table that’s closer to the door but farther from the small group. As soon as they sit down, though, the group stands up and shuffles out of the joint, all looking pretty suspicious. One of them has even has sunglasses on – tone it down, buddy.

“Wonder what that was about,” Karen murmurs as she watches the door swing shut. Foggy huffs.

“Probably plotting crime. You know how criminals are,” he says but Karen seems unconvinced. He doesn’t let her dwell, instead goes to the counter and gets two beers.

“Thanks,” Karen takes a sip and scrunches her nose.

“Sorry, forgot you aren’t a fan. I can get something else.”

“It’s fine. Just bitter,” she takes another sip anyway.

They sit together in a comfortable silence for a bit. There’s a game playing on the TV by the bar but Foggy can’t see or hear what’s happening from this far away.

“Hey,” Foggy says. He’s decided to just go for it. “So how’s that case with the crazy lady going?”

“She’s not crazy,” Karen shakes her head, then takes another sip. “Kind of a shitty thing to say.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Karen rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine, I’ll stop. How’s the interesting woman treating you?”

Karen pauses for so long he starts to think maybe she’s more annoyed with him than he thought. Just as he’s about to apologize again, she speaks.

“Her son is missing,” she says.

“Her son? So you’re working with the police?”

“Well, no,” admits Karen. “The police won’t get involved. That’s why I was so reluctant to take her case, because the police are saying she’s just a,” Karen gestures to Foggy. “you know, a crazy lady.”

Foggy winces. “Okay, I get it. So what – he’s not really missing? Just doesn’t want to live with her anymore? Or she hates her new daughter-in-law?”

“She said he’s been missing for a few months now. He used to visit pretty regularly – but he hasn’t been by and she can’t get a hold of him. His phone is disconnected, his apartment’s been sold, and – “

Karen pauses, hesitating.

“What?”

“Well, this is where it gets weird. No one remembers him. Everyone that knew him, doesn’t know him anymore. Even she barely remembers his name and what he looks like. She has a photo of him and that’s what I’ve been using to look for him.”

“Wait – you’re actually looking for this guy?” 

“Well, you said – “

“Whatever I said,” Foggy says. “I meant it for real people.”

“You weren’t there,” Karen snaps. “She said I knew him too. She said you knew him.”

“And what, we just forgot this whole person?”

“Foggy – just, just think,” Foggy feels a headache coming on. “Haven’t you felt like something is, is missing or – I don’t know, like you’re forgetting something?”

And the thing is, he has. He thinks of the sandwich in his fridge still, untouched. He thinks of the empty seat in front of him at the sandwich shop. About their third office. About the random apartment building he visited that he doesn’t recognize but does. About the misprinted sign they threw out two months ago because it had a mysterious third name on it. And it starts to make sense.

“What’s his name?” Foggy asks, dreading the answer.

“Matt Murdock.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 24 of FebuWhump [memory loss]
> 
> Title comes from the song The Most Beautiful Thing by Bruno Major.
> 
> Now in my head, I have a vague idea what's happening. But I probably won't continue this so I hope you enjoyed this little thing aka my first attempt at FebuWhump!


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